Hands

Through travel I first became aware of the outside world; it was through travel that I found my own introspective way into becoming a part of it. — Eudora Welty

The content of ViennaSong has been redirected by new authorship, effective immediately.

Until today, my time in Hong Kong, outwardly glamorous, action-packed, and exotic, fell short of my expectations.  Curious, as I came with very few expectations, mostly out of ignorance; but I did anticipate a grand, life-altering, travel-inspired revelation that would magically allow me to see the world in a different light because of how experienced, well-rounded, and innovative I had become.  Not yet, naturally — it's only week three — but I had hoped to see the beginnings of my rebirth by this point.  Even as I wrote about lens-turning and focus-shifting and any other romantic garbage my fingers spat out, my words were closer to wishes than realities.  They described a change for which I hoped, not a transformation that had already begun.  And it is always at this point — the point where I think I have everything figured out — that God reveals Himself to me.

This morning, as I swiped through my Facebook homepage before starting my work, the world stopped when I saw this photo:

I don't hate my life; that's not where I'm going with this.  In fact, I rather wish the text had been omitted altogether, but design principles are irrelevant now.  The image struck me.  Not due to unfamiliarity; the concept of poverty isn't a new one to me, and it probably isn't new to you, either.  I've cringed at photographs, struggled through videos, and flipped past dozens of articles provided by people with a better grasp on reality than mine, who spend their lives trying, often vainly, to educate the more-fortunate.  The only possible explanation for why this particular image struck me is the power of the Holy Spirit.

I lingered at the photograph for a little while, imagining how it would feel to touch that little hand, so grotesquely fragile I feel as if I'd break it.  Before long, I began to wonder, in my disgusting nature, whether this is a screenshot from one of those World Vision commercials that used to interrupt my childhood T.V. shows, with a gray-bearded man prattling on about how you, too, can help a child for "only a dollar a day."  I went about my day, but the more this image flashed through my mind, the more I began to see the transformation for which I had hoped.

Part of my dissatisfaction with my first few weeks in Hong Kong lies in how familiar it is.  Some things are different, of course — double-decker buses bustling down the left side of the road, Chinese people bantering in Cantonese all over the place, the ever-present stench of pungent seafood — but too much of this environment is just like the United States, if not fancier and more sophisticated.  I wanted to see "the world," a world very different from mine, not one with palatial Louis Vuitton outlets and luxurious sky bars.  I didn't come here for a vacation.

The best way I can describe what happened today — I still don't fully understand it and probably won't for a while — is that this photograph was a catalyst, igniting a reaction between my growing disgust with the overblown luxuries of Hong Kong and my aching desire to go to parts of the world that will truly cause me to see and think differently.  I didn't expect the glorious transformation to be instantaneous, but it feels as if it was; and now, out of nowhere, God has entrusted me with a burning desire to invest my life in human relief.

When I say "instantaneous," I mean, my photography professor got my wheels turning again this afternoon, and by the end of the twenty-five-minute bus ride home, I was estimating airfare to India.  I entered my apartment, saw my reflection in the full-length mirror, and was disgusted with the marks of luxury tattooed all over me.  The money I spent on the haircut I considered a bargain twenty-four hours ago could provide food and schooling for a child in Kenya for five months.  I knew this, but somehow it had no meaning until now.

Please join me on this journey as I prayerfully consider when and how to move forward.  At this point, I still intend to finish school and graduate next spring, but major considerations include where I will go, which organization (if any) would be fitting for me to work with, and options for financing this new lifestyle while paying off substantial student loans.  This is still so unfamiliar to me that I feel as if someone else is writing, and I suppose that's true.

Here's to self-discovery.

eb